Read Online Three Minutes to Midnight by A. J Tata - Free Book Online Page B

can see.”
    â€œEither to a hospital or a lake, I’m thinking.”
    â€œWe’ve called all the emergency care facilities in the area. No joy, as you say.”
    â€œThat leaves the lakes: Shearon Harris and Jordan.”
    â€œOr perhaps she wasn’t wounded badly enough,” she admitted.
    â€œAny other kinds of ‘matter’ mixed in with the blood?” Mahegan was looking for clarity regarding the type of wound and whether there might be an entry or exit point on the body, given the report of a gunshot.
    â€œWe’re running all the tests.”
    An awkward silent moment passed before Mahegan said, “Any chance I can give you a call . . . to get the results?”
    She grinned, and her teeth were perfect, framed by full, pouty lips. “What happened to your big, bad team of Army CID agents? Where are Leroy Gibbs and DiNozzo?”
    â€œThat’s television and Navy. Wrong on both counts. I’m the lead guy. When they heard there was no body, they decided to let the situation develop some.”
    She removed her latex gloves, pulled out a pen, grabbed his hand with delicate fingers, and wrote a number on his palm. “Hope you don’t sweat,” she said.
    Mahegan noticed a small tattoo on her wrist: Esse quam videri . “To be rather than to seem,” he said, translating the Latin.
    She turned her eyes upward from his palm and smiled. “State motto. It’s henna. I change it every few months, when it wears out.” Then she nodded over Mahegan’s shoulder and laughed. “Your boy is about to fall out of the tree.”
    As Mahegan turned around, Nathan landed with a thud on his back, fiber-optic cable and the camera wrapped around his body like packing tape. He appeared okay, and when Mahegan turned back to address Grace Kagami, the beautiful mirror, like a specter, she was gone. Mahegan returned to the backyard, helped Nathan out of his fiber-optic web and removed the GoPro camera with the external battery pack.
    â€œWhat are you doing?” Nathan asked.
    â€œI’m guessing this stuff cost you some decent change, so while you go and get me an external drive’s worth of home movies, I’m hanging on to this. If you’re not back in fifteen minutes, I’m ringing your front doorbell.”
    â€œNot cool, man. I already gave you the thumb drive.”
    Mahegan said nothing.
    â€œBut okay.” Nathan pointed to a window above the fence. “That’s my room. I’ve got my own entrance. I’ll be up there and back down. Don’t squeeze me if it’s twenty minutes. This stuff takes time.”
    â€œFifteen. Front door.”
    Demonstrating surprising athleticism, Nathan was over the fence in record time. On the return trip he didn’t bother coming all the way over but simply climbed the fence halfway and chucked Mahegan an external drive.
    â€œEverything I got. Peace out.”
    Mahegan removed the data card from the GoPro, then stuffed the small external drive, about the size of a wallet, into his back left pocket and made his way through the side gate toward his car.
    Out of the corner of his eye, he saw two men talking near the side of the house, behind a square brick chimney. He recognized one from his Army days and the other from the pictures in the house. Sam Blackmon, retired Army colonel, was talking to Brand Throckmorton, lord of the manor. Blackmon wore a leather coat, a black turtleneck sweater, and black dungarees. The bulge under his coat indicated he was carrying a pistol. Throckmorton was wearing a blazer, an ascot, a button-down shirt, and neatly hemmed dress slacks that fell atop expensive Italian shoes. Evening wear. They had triggered a motion-sensor light, which shone on them like a theater spotlight. It seemed that Blackmon was mostly listening, though, as Throckmorton gesticulated wildly with his hands.
    Mahegan had served with Blackmon on different missions, but the colonel